


Whispers to the Stars

by MarcellaEReeves



Series: Fragments [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, False Memories, Kerberos Mission, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Pre-Canon, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:26:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcellaEReeves/pseuds/MarcellaEReeves
Summary: Shiro reflects on how a single conversation with the stars during a childhood family visit to a remote spa town lead him to his fate, how his true home was written in the sky, and how they'd given him a sense of belonging when he'd had none.They'd lead him to sharing this moment with Keith, sinking into the heat of the onsen and reaching for the graduate. Listening to them had been the best decision he'd ever made, truly, he'd listened and they'd guided him and given him a home.The stars had loved him, right?





	Whispers to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm...

Shiro had always loved bathing in hot springs. The last time he’d been to one he’d been a small child, on holiday with his parents in the mountains. So far from the city lights he was used to, the stars in the sky had opened up like a blanket, and branded their beauty on his heart. He laid his soul bare to them, whispering his fears to their lights and being comforted by their silence. Drifting between the heat on his body and the cool air on his skin, they’d told him to be brave, told him he belonged with them, that he was only grounded for now, and that soon, he’d be back home. They’d comforted the ache in his chest with their touch, and Shiro had found himself focusing on his new goal.   
  
To walk among the stars. To go home.  
  
Everything had seemed so trivial after that silent conversation. The fears over his place in the world no longer seemed meaningful because he had no place in the world. His destiny was written in the stars and Shiro would rise to meet it.  
  
He’d thrown himself into his schoolwork, determined to get high enough grades to be selected for the Galaxy Garrison. His parents had been mortified when he’d announced his plans, threatened to disown him for wanting to join the military. They’d made him choose between them and his destiny.

He’d chosen. 

His first time in the simulator was a mess, he’d been excited, an overstimulated trembling wreck. It had been a fake approximation, but compared to the life he’d lead before, fake had been more than good enough. Surrounded by stars he’d finally felt peace, and though the nagging sensation of gravity had stopped his complete immersion, he was happy.

Shiro leaned back now, fingers trailing lazily through the water he was sitting in, starting to cool but still hot enough, and he smiled. He’d been so young naive and yet, everything he was he owed to that silent conversation with the stars. He was born bound to Earth but they’d guided him, shown him a map to his happiness.

The Kerberos mission was an offer he couldn’t refuse. He’d jumped at the chance, shouting down the phone at Dr Holt, and receiving enthusiastic laughter in return. The Zagreus IV was a beautiful ship. Sleek lines and ridiculously powerful engine, his lower gut had definitely reacted in a way he preferred to ignore when he’d been given her specs. He knew he’d been given the envy of the fleet when Keith had all but _purred_ at the stolen image he’d sneaked of her plasma drives, a cadet notorious for demanding more power and speed than the simulators could reasonably provide. Shiro had thought it was a strange noise, making the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand on end. His gut had also clenched at that, but he already knew why that was.

Kogane was with him now, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and staring at the water. He turned to Shiro, smiling at him with such radiant love that a moan was choked in his throat from the force of emotions. He’d known, they’d both known, but the unspoken _‘when I get back’_ had stopped the conversation before it was even birthed.

He cupped his hands under the water before splashing his face with it, hoping to clear his thoughts. Keith had waited for him like he said he would. Shiro had somewhat expected to be abandoned if he was being honest. Teenagers were notoriously unreliable, and as often as Keith had proven he was different from his age group, Shiro was unable to shake the fear that he’d return to nothing. 

But he’d gotten back, and Keith had been there for him with gentle touches and sweet love. Shiro had wanted nothing more than to pick him up and drag him away for three weeks.

He reached over, trying to pull Keith close, but the former cadet was just out of reach. He laughed though, and the sound painted a dopey grin on Shiro’s own face, delirious as he was with his emotions. Kogane always managed to make him feel eternal and young all at once, and all he wanted was to just pull the younger man close and never release him. 

His hand splashed as he made another grab, more laughter filling his heart and warming him more than the cooling hot spring ever could. He ran his hand through his hair, combing out the mats with his fingers and never quite succeeding. It was a wonder Keith wanted him at all with how dishevelled he looked.   
  
Shiro went to fill his hands with water again, to wash his hair. If the rushing noise in the back of his head was quieter he’d remember how bad his etiquette was for not washing properly _first._

Even though he _had_ washed, he must have been too eager and not done a good enough job.

He lifted the water before dropping it over his head, and it was only then he noticed how it clung to his skin. Sticking between his fingers. 

Water wasn't sticky.

The rushing noise was increasing in volume as his nose filled with the smell of iron and rust. Deep orange flooded his vision, eradicating the image of Keith and leaving the sweetness of his laugh like an echo of something he’d never hear again.

Cruelly snatched away, the only joy he had left, he could feel his chest caving in. The rushing reached a crescendo before finally revealing itself for what it was: cheering. There was no confusing the sticky substance painting his hands anymore, coating his body, matting his hair. Even orange and loaded with iron it was unmistakable, the precious life fluid of some oversized alien monster he’d been sitting in the chest of. He remembered tearing it open. He remembered letting himself get swallowed whole first.

If whoever was screaming stopped he could cling onto the thought of Keith’s face for just a little longer, but it was the only thing he could hear at that moment, a broken, haunted sound. He was surprised, then, when he realised it was coming from his own throat. Standing in the chest cavity of some dead animal he’d been forced to kill as a bloodsport, screaming and trying to tear his own hair out. The announcer seemed overly pleased with his performance. Making claims about how his bloodlust had only been sated for moments - _moments!_ As if the breakdown he was having indicated his willingness to murder again. And it certainly was a breakdown, he wasn’t far gone enough to not be able to recognise his rapidly deteriorating mental state.  
  
So when the Galra came to drag him out of the corpse and back to his cell he fought them instead, the volume from the crowd somehow growing louder. They were a godforsaken race of depraved animals, and Shiro considered it his duty to the universe to disable or kill as many of them that he could, at least until he was so broken he no longer had his autonomy. If there was a good Galra, he’d yet to meet one.  
  
If anything, he could enrage them enough to knock him out. A concussion wasn’t nice but being decked out and ignorant of this hell for a few hours was preferable to consciousness.  
  
He got his wish, after taking out the first two he got clubbed, the last thought that he had before he slipped under being that, as much as he hated himself for the traitorous thought, sometimes he wished Keith was here with him.  
  
He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK, it's Fragments-verse idk what to say. Keith never graduated from the Garrison that should have been clue number one. I'm so sorry D:
> 
> Come say hi! I don't bite~
> 
> Tumblr: marcellaereeves.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: twitter.com/MarcellaEReeves


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